Flower

‘I feel like a permanent conduit has been built between my brain and this book. Atkins is relentless, beautiful, hideously and angelically honest. Sometimes it brought me to tears and I’m not even sure why. It’s the stuff most of us leave out, or wouldn’t even know how to articulate. By which I mean this book has made so much other writing feel like propaganda. It’s heroic. I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from it.’
— Luke Kennard, author of Notes on the Sonnets

‘Flower is propulsive and it doesn’t let up. It’s about vulnerability, sort of, and invincibility: it swings between these poles. It’s about mortality, too, and in that sense humanity. To speak the book back at itself, I confess it did get to me.’
— Isabel Waidner, author of Corey Fah Does Social Mobility

‘Finally someone is writing about all the food in drugstores. A paean of appreciation to these freakish purveyors of junk is how Atkins launches his amorous, granular unspooling of outrageous drives and appetites. Flower is the kind of book many people dream of writing: kudos to Atkins for getting it on the page.’
— Moyra Davey, author of Index Cards 

‘Violent, emetic, immoderate, improper, impure – that’s to say it’s the real thing. Atkins’s prose, which may not be prose, adheres to Aragon’s maxim “Don’t think – write.”’ 
— Jonathan Meades (praise for Old Food)

‘Ed Atkins is the artist of ugly feelings – gruesome and smeared and depleted. But everything he does in his videos or paintings, I’ve always thought, he really does as a writer. He uses language as a system where everything gets reprocessed and misshapen – a unique and constant mislaying of tone that’s as dizzying as it’s exhilarating.’
— Adam Thirlwell, author of The Future Future (praise for Old Food)

‘Atkins’ writing spores from the body, scraping through life matter’s nervous stuff, leaving us agitated and eager. What’s appealed to us is an odd mix of mimetic futures. Cancer exists, tattoos, squids, and kissing exist – all felt in the mouth as pulsing questions.’
— Holly Pester, author of The Lodgers (praise for Old Food)

‘Atkins, reflecting on the absence of humans in the exhibition, here favours the visceral impact of associated images and words, pumping the poetry-prose with lines that speak of our primeval instincts, needs and desires, in order to “seek empathic commons.”’
— ArtReview (praise for Old Food)